


The Theme is Fear

by Hawkbringer



Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Abrupt Ending, Ciel allows the use of his first name, Clothed Masturbation, Consensual Kink, Finger Sucking, French Kissing, He just wants a hug, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Master/Servant, Masturbation, Mentions of musical-only shinigami, Moment of rapture, Mutual Finger Sucking, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Pet Names, Poor Ciel Phantomhive, References to manga canon, Self-Denial, Set after the second musical, Sexual Roleplay, Sweet and gentle kink, That's a big deal, Undressing, Yearning, awkward japanese terminology left in, constant kink negotiation, disgustingly saccharine sweetness, i found the rest of it, leans heavily on the underage kink, mention of Ciel's previous rape, mention of previous underage partners for sebastian, mentions of Weston School arc, mentions of campagnia arc, on the part of the demon, which IS the kink, which scares him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:02:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkbringer/pseuds/Hawkbringer
Summary: After a long day, an exhausting mission, Ciel commands Sebastian to hold him and be gentle, though Sebastian resists at first. He eventually settles into it the way he always has skirted the contract's rule against 'lying' - by roleplaying. (Written 2014, stream-of-consciousness style. Mind the tags)
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis/Ciel Phantomhive
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This morning, or maybe last night, I came up with a scene for Ciel and Sebastian based on fear. Ciel told Sebastian to touch him like he was afraid to break Ciel, which Sebby resisted, quite a lot as I played it, more than was perhaps logical, and Ciel eventually had to tell him to play it like another other act, like a tutor or a teacher or being dead or even, being a butler. It isn't lying, Ciel had to insist over Sebastian's silence, anymore than any of the other 'plays' were - they stopped, when Ciel commanded.
> 
> He luxuriates, putting his hands over his head, and looks at Sebastian with supreme, sharp, cutting confidence - a look meant to draw blood - "If I tell you to, you'll stop. You'll have to." And he teasingly pushes a few fingers beneath his eye patch, shoves it up and off and raises his chin, tilts his head, and challenges Sebastian with a gaze from that white-stamped eye.
> 
> Hmm, I should start at the beginning.
> 
> It is the night after the mansion hosted two ungrateful, tragedy-bound shinigami, and also Grelle, and solved the murder of a thousand souls. Sebastian must be starving, but he let every single one of those 999 souls float on up into the sky without attempting to grasp a single one. Ciel hasn't thought that deeply about what that means in terms of Sebastian's dedication. He is bundled up in bed, thinking long thoughts about love, destiny, tragedy...

Ciel turns over, and Sebastian, hungry as he is after every truly draining fight, stays a bit longer, candelabra lit only for form's sake, and /drinks/ Ciel in with his eyes. 

Ciel's eyes are apparently not entirely closed as he lays there, resolutely faced away from Sebastian, toward the dark window, for he lifts his upper, right arm and tilts it back towards Sebastian at a ridiculous angle, elbow unbent. 

"Come here," he says imperiously, without the weight of an order behind it. 

"Oh?" Sebastian drawls, stepping closer and setting the candelabra on the bedside table. "Does my little master want me to tuck him into bed again?" 

Ciel does not even bristle at the 'again,' which should have been a hint for Sebas-chan, but wasn't. "Just come here, Sebastian. Get in the bed." 

Sebastian's eyebrows rise higher than they have all week, and he doesn't move. 

Mistake, apparently. 

Ciel turns halfway toward him, contracted eye squinted closed out of habit, and glares at him over his slim shoulder. "Take my hand, you dolt, and get into bed," he instructs testily, each word pronounced as one would to a simpleton.

Sebastian bows at the waist, one hand on his heart, and demurs, "I must take off my shoes and tailcoat, at least, young master, or the linens will be dirtied." 

Ciel humpfs. "You'll do better than that - socks and vest as well." That will leave Sebastian barefoot in shirtsleeves, more naked than Ciel has ever seen him while on duty. Sebastian smiles impenetrably and complies, leaving the socks inside the shoes, the tailcoat and vest folded neatly over a chair-back. 

In the faint candlelight, Ciel can see even his toenails are black. 

He smirks. 

He then holds his right arm out imperiously again, and Sebastian takes it, cupping it softly as he might a lady's. Ciel looks at it, and immediately decides what is wrong with the picture. "Gloves off too, if you're worried about dirtying the linens," he drawled, one eyebrow rising. 

Sebastian attempts to pull his hand from Ciel's grasp, but the boy simply tightens it, and the glove separates from Sebastian's unmarked skin. He plops it back into Sebastian's hand, and the butler removes his other one, placing them beside Ciel's rings and eyepatch on the nightstand. He looks admiringly at them and Ciel glowers at his sentimentalism. 

"Come /here/," he growls again, groping now with his arm stretched into the air. Sebastian catches it, presses it to his chest for a moment, then obligingly climbs in behind Ciel. 

Ciel pulls his arm over his small body, and... /snuggles/... back against Sebastian, there really is no other word. Ciel's insistent hand drags Sebas-chan's beneath his nightshirt, and he says, "I want you to touch me." No hesitation, no fear. 

"I am touching you, my lord," Sebastian stalls, bare hand being pressed to Ciel's side. 

"/God/, you are annoying," he huffs, trailing his own fingers along the curve of his hip. Sebastian smiles. 

"I believe He would agree with you on that point," he notes. 

Ciel looks over his shoulder at him again. "Are you going to make some crack about Him every time I say the word?" 

"Probably," Sebastian responds. "After all, I did meet him personally--" 

"I don't want to hear it!" Ciel cuts in, jerking Sebastian's arm tighter to his body. "Ugh, demon, you are the worst tease!"

"Tease?" Sebastian responds predictably, tightening his arm around the boy of his own accord, dipping his head to let his lips brush Ciel's ear. "My dear young master, it would be an affront to the butler aesthetic to make promises one does not intend to keep."

"And I intend to /make/ you keep them," Ciel threatens confidently. "I want you to tease me no more, Sebastian!" He wriggles against the man-shaped demon, dropping his and Sebastian's hands to press against his hipbone. "You've been /dying/ for this," he prophesies accurately, undulating his hips as best he can, on his side. Sensing the difficulty, Ciel suddenly rolls himself, and his butler, over, forcing Sebastian to catch himself with his arms at Ciel's sides, to prevent his weight from crushing the boy. Ciel draws his hands slowly up Sebastian's sides, smoothing down the fabric of his shirt as he goes. "/Aching/ for it," the boy all but moans, lifting his skinny legs up around Sebastian's hips. His knees can barely reach Sebastian's hips with how far away the butler is holding himself, and his ankles aren't nearly close enough to cross. Ciel barely manages not to pout when he notices that his butler's expression has turned to stone. 

"I haven't, actually, young master," he informs Ciel breezily, as though Ciel has been telling him that Sebastian has been secretly yearning to taste Ciel's morning teas.

Ciel scoffs, his face scrunching briefly. "You are a demon, Sebastian. What demon doesn't indulge in lust?" 

"This one, apparently," Sebastian answers sardonically, not moving, though it's clear he would rather, as the master would surely be displeased were he to exit the bed.

Ciel huffs again, more audibly, his arms going limp against Sebastian's for a moment, before he realizes there's nothing better to do with them, and so simply crosses them behind his butler's head. "You never... ever have." 

It's not a question, though it is, and he pronounces each word with dripping unbelief. The corners of Sebastian's mouth lift up. 

"I did not say that, young master, did I?" But the smile falls as he anticipates the next question. He /hates/ talking about his past. But Ciel surprises him.

"Hmf. Not a pedophile, are you? Well, I think I can change your mind--"

"It's not /that/... Young master. You are quite... pleasing to the eye," and he gives Ciel's body a heated once-over, and admits to himself the childish petulant glare only adds to the overall effect of moody teenager trapped in a child's body. It's not that he doesn't find the boy attractive, just... "I have had types like you before." 

He masks quite well, but not perfectly, the surprise at himself that he let that fact slip so easily. Why is he rushing to soothe the young master? Would it not be more entertaining to reject him utterly and watch the resulting insecurity and deviant sexual development? But he does not intend to keep Ciel around for that long. 

Ciel surprises him again, not taking the devilishly-simple lead, and tilts his head inquiringly. "So? Why not this time? It can't be that the times forbid it?"

"No, that is not why." Sebastian turns his head away and looks, with senses the boy beneath him does not possess, through the cloaked window to the world beyond, to times beyond. "I have had... so much, throughout the ages. I was a very different demon before I came to you. For someone so young to be so fiery, it was... refreshing." 

He turns back to gaze at Ciel again, eyes drawn to Ciel's white-branded eye, which the boy consciously opens in the near-darkness. Sebastian smiles to see it. 

"I wanted to keep you around a little longer. Of course, it was always an option to define 'your revenge' in my terms, and end the contract before I'd made it, granting you only your first bloody wish. I could have ended it at any time, actually - it's hardly binding on me once I eat you!" He shifts his body to take some pressure off his knees - ill-designed joints, indeed! He much prefers bird's claws. (Ciel is disappointed to feel a complete and utter lack of excitement from his butler's body as it presses against his thigh.) "But I found I had become...tired," he sighs, head dropping slightly with the force of the exhale, of memory. "I had done it all, seen it all, had every kind of delicacy imaginable - yes, bocchan, even souls tastier than yours - but the one thing I had not ever done was /not/ take." 

Ciel's eyes widen as he imagines Sebastian, seated at a feast, bored of it, as Ciel gets sometimes, and entertaining himself by staring at each lavish dish, and /not eating it/, instead simply pocketing an apple and walking away. Ciel finds himself hoping that Sebastian will carry /him/ in his pocket for a very long time. He does not want Sebastian to attend any more feasts, and knows, in that instant, what jealousy is. 

The revelation widens both his eyes and /Ciel/ feels fear as his butler opens his mouth to speak again. This is not how he wanted this night to go.

"And so I am /not/ taking /you/. I am abiding by the strictures of the contract, the human limitations you have placed me under; I endure daily frustrations and irritations, endeavor to fulfill your every whim, in short - deny myself /everything/. I enjoy the pleasures of the flesh as much as any demon--" and here he strokes Ciel's trembling cheek with one black-nailed finger-- "But I find that I am /not/ enjoying them... even more."

Ciel digests this very quickly, and his eyes flick up to Sebastian's, his expression slightly affronted as he says, "You find you are enjoying /not/ having sex with me more than you think you /would/ enjoy it?" 

Sebastian smiles. "Precisely, bocchan." 

Ciel debates the merits of attempting to backhand his butler from his current position, and settles on fisting a hand in Sebastian's hair and ripping at it mercilessly. Sebastian's head jerks back, breaking eye contact, but he doesn't make a sound. Ciel has never seen an injured Sebastian do more than wince. Even after the Campagnia, he only spat blood and breathed with difficulty as his lungs healed. 

"Then you are guilty of the preeminent sin of putting your /personal/ desires above your master's, which /no/ butler is /ever/ allowed to do," he growls, digging his nails into the back of Sebastian's head for good measure. "Indeed, you are guilty of an egregious violation of the butler's aesthetic, and though I have no cane to punish you with, know that this reprieve is /more/ than you deserve."

"I could fetch young master's walking stick if it pleases--" 

"You imbecile!" Ciel growls, tightening his hold momentarily. "It /pleases me/ to see you /follow my orders, slave,/ and right now, I have one for you..." 

Sebastian closes his eyes, certain he will be unable to prevent the flash of true anger Ciel's next words are likely to engender in him-- but he is again struck dumb by the "child's" orders.

"This is an order, Sebastian. Touch me like you /yearn/ for it... but you're afraid you'll break me." 

Sebastian opens his eyes to protest the inaccuracy of the second half of the statement, before its meaning truly hits home. Ciel is asking for...

"You want me to /lie/ to you?" he has to ask, eyebrows high. "I thought you hated liars."

Ciel sighs impatiently, untangles his fingers from his butler's hair, bringing both arms to cross over his small chest. "I am well aware these are not emotions you harbor for me, Sebastian. You have made that quite clear," he adds with a silver-glint glare. "I want you to play at it. /Pretend./"

Sebastian shakes his head. "That is still lying, bocchan, and as such, prohibited under the terms of our contract--" 

"That didn't stop you from calling me Young Mistress at Druitt's mansion, did it? From entering the curry contest despite Funtom's clear lack of eligibility? From tutoring those students at Weston College, effectively enough to have garnered a positive reputation within the two weeks before I arrived?" Ciel's smirk turns prim as he watches Sebastian's face fall, the demon calculating, perhaps asking himself why those farces were acceptable and this one was not. "You are never to lie to me, those were my words - but if we both know we are telling untruths to each other, how is that not a lie, but a shared truth? An un-anonymous masquerade, since you are so fond of disguises. You cannot say you find no pleasure in the play."

Sebastian nods slowly, remembering both Ciel's words, and the desperation they felt each time they put on such 'plays.' Was Ciel truly that desperate now? "It's hardly a shared truth if, for one of us, it is a lie," he replies simply.

"It does not matter if one or both of us is lying," Ciel replies brusquely, patience rapidly draining. "As long as /we both know the truth/, no lies can separate us." Sebastian does not like the almost ceremonial quality of that declaration, does not like it applied to himself and his dark countenance prompts to Ciel to question him, "What is the only thing you trust?"

Sebastian raises his eyes, looks into Ciel's for the first time in minutes. "The contract." He does not tack 'young master' onto the end, and Ciel decides they're getting somewhere.

"Correct," he replies succinctly, with perfect diction. "And /I/ trust that this /little hang-up/ of yours is not enough to convince you to end it all right now--" He pauses to give Sebastian time to glance heavenward (a fact which amuses Ciel greatly) and shake his head rather morosely, then continues, "--so then, execute my orders as directed, Sebastian-inu," he mutters at the end of the name, reminding Sebastian of his status as nothing but a dog, meant to obey his master, "and touch me, sexually, as though you have always yearned for it, but have always, and do still, fear I will be corrupted by your lustful hands."

He luxuriates, stretching his arms over his head, and leaves them there, enticing, challenging Sebastian with a completely untroubled smirk. "I want to feel your hands shake. Act like you have no confidence - but all the experience in the world. Heh. We both know I'm no unsullied, pure thing. Come on, smirk at me as we play out this farce." He sighs. "You can think of it as simply entertaining me, if you must. But know that my standards are quite high." He glances down his nose at Sebastian, still poised motionless above him. "That should be sufficient inducement to good performance, I should think?"

Nearly growling in his throat with the desire to /shut the bitch up/, Sebastian rears back on his knees --- and stops. It isn't some childish desire for satisfaction or entertainment nor even seeing Sebastian further debase himself. It isn't a meaningless request at all. Sebastian found Ciel half-dead, having been used and starved and stabbed and truly /desecrated/ by a cult of white-robed perverts. He had been 10 years and one month old. He is 12 now. 12 and 4 months and a handful of days, and so it isn't an anniversary weighing on his mind, but the very human desire to be /loved/, to be, simply, /not lonely./ 

It wasn't boring to him, watching the pair of shinigami spiral towards their fated end, but frightening - if they had all the time in the world, and had even /found/ a loving partner, but had not been loved? He, Ciel Phantomhive, has time left numbered in days, years, perhaps, if he is negligent in attaining his revenge. Truly, Sebastian considers, his every day living after That Month is one more than fate would have given him. 

Some part of Ciel, when the boy wakes in the morning, is surprised. Every single day. It is a weakness, he said, to be led around by a word like solitude, certain it was all they could have, all they could be, struggling against it like it was the definition of their lives, instead of the meaning of a single flower one of their names happened to sound like. 

Ciel's definition is revenge. They both know this. 

/Is he trying to.../ To play it sideways, to tear down the walls be refusing to believe they exist, to /touch/ another person, to do exactly as he always wanted - and redefine his life immediately, in that moment. How truly tragic that the only one he can touch, is his murderer. 

/Well, just like those two,/ Sebastian concedes, remembering the choked scream of the sickly shinigami as his beloved aimed for Sebastian's master - and missed. He sees the logic in Ciel's insistence that he does not lie. How many times did the fallen shinigami lie to his comrade? Refuse to answer a direct question? Refuse to follow a strongly-worded request? Sebastian will never betray his master out of /love/; how impossible! But he is, in this moment, attempting to avoid his orders to please himself, hurting Ciel in the process. He accepts the tiny fist at the back of his head, now, as deserved. No butler should be so selfish! Not when his charge is so.... vulnerable.

Because /that/ is the heart of the matter, the truth that flashes whole and immediate, into Sebastian's mind as he looks at the too-cocky child lounging in his bed, quite transparently begging Sebastian to fuck him like he's wanted it for years. It isn't about the /sex/. Ciel just wants a /hug/. 

Sebastian is a devil of a butler and he will say later that he had decided in that moment to begin the farce, the play, for Ciel's amusement. Ciel had told him to do so right then, hadn't he? 

But that is not what he does. He does not begin the play. He pushes his hands beneath Ciel's thin chest and cradles his head against his shoulder because.... because why, he does not know. It is absolutely unacceptable behavior, for a butler, for a /demon,/ to /not/ be beginning the play, to not be taking immediate advantage of a vulnerable, exquisite soul in need of comfort in order to further twist the soul to his will. Those are the only reasons he should ever hold his master so tenderly. To ensnare or to obey. He is doing neither. 

And it doesn't hurt. For one, brief, shining, moment, it doesn't hurt. 

He feels weightless, thoughtless, ageless, and at peace. He has felt this way before. 

His false heart beats twice and all the horrors of Pandora swarm back into his conscious mind and he breathes in, long and deep, beneath that comforting weight. After all, without it, he... might just... float up into the sky. And he can't ever, /ever/, do that, again.

He sighs, a long exhale, his false heartbeat slowing, comforted by the smell of human, the sight of candlelight, the sounds of old wood creaking, a fire crackling far away in the servant's quarters. For such a short trip, he is rattled, far more than he can ever explain, and he throws himself into the play, determined to keep a tight hold on his mind, so that it can't slip away, attempt to do things it can't, shouldn't be able to, do. "Love."

He hadn't intended to speak it aloud and oh, is he in trouble now! 

Ciel simply laughs at him, pushes at his thigh with small toes, and laughs, "Really? That's the best you can do!?"

Sebastian allows a gulp from his throat, makes his face twist in sorrow. "My love, I only wish to...."

Ciel laughs at him again. "You're going to have to find a better pet name, /Sebastian,/" he taunts, throwing the butler's name at him so the servant doesn't think Ciel is after a fantasy play. He doesn't want anyone but Sebastian to fuck him, after all. That's rather the point of the play. His face turns utterly murderous. "I will have Finny castrate you with his /bare hands/ if you say 'robin'," he intones, a threat Sebastian is quite certain Ciel would not carry out - he would make Sebastian do it to himself. And allow Ciel to watch.

Sebastian lowers his head, closing his eyes. "My...my dear--"

"No."

"Beloved--"

"Definitely not."

Stymied, Sebastian attempts to /think harder/, a task he has never before set himself, before settling on, "Sweetheart," delivered with a perfectly soppy smile and perfectly feigned affection shining in his eyes. He feels Ciel's tiny cock twitch against his stomach, and the boy responds, "Nhh. Good enough, I s'pose." He seems actually a bit embarrassed by that, and it thrills Sebastian to contemplate if his parents were the last people to call him that.

Sebas-chan leans forward and places a kiss against his forehead. "My sweetheart," he nearly sobs, "/Please./ Oh... /please/, won't you let me touch you?"

"/I'm/ not the one who's been reticent with his affection these past few weeks," Ciel reminds him, seemingly not having adopted a character yet. /Does he even intend to?/ Sebastian wonders.

"I...I was wrong," he bites his lip, drops his head, playing along beautifully. "I've just...I've wanted you /too/ much, sweetheart, I'm just... afraid." He speaks the last word so very quietly, and Ciel is on the verge of rolling his eyes at the pure saccharinity in Sebastian's voice, but finds himself responding in spite of it.

"Afraid? Of what?" He does his best to inject dismissal and condescension into his voice, but for the first time, it doesn't sound genuine, and Sebastian knows he has been hooked. Now, if only Sebastian knew how to reel him in...

"I don't...want to /hurt/ you," Sebastian reveals haltingly, biting his lip during the pause. 

"Then go slow," Ciel instructs quietly, and Sebastian's expression is completely unfeigned as his head jerks up, surprise and wonder written on it in bold type. Ciel's eyes slide away from his face and color rises in his cheeks. /Actually blushing/, Sebastian marvels, astounded.

"Start...taking off my shirt." It sounds like two separate thoughts, but Sebastian strings them together and places trembling bare fingers at Ciel's neck, expert enough at this to only need one hand. The first button he undoes slowly, though he could have the entire shirt undone in seconds. When it has separated, he inserts his fingers and drags them teasingly along Ciel's exposed chest. He hopes it will be interpreted as hesitant. "Next one," Ciel orders in a still-quiet voice, and Sebastian complies. 

He rubs and strokes and explores his master's smooth, hairless chest as he listens for instructions, scratching very lightly with his nails. Ciel's erect cock lifts the bottom of the shirt away from his skin and Sebastian doesn't touch it until his fingers encounter the tip of it. When they do, when the second-to-last button is undone, (Sebastian having switched hands at some point) Sebastian's fingers descend, and when they brush it, Ciel's whole body jerks, the small cock twitching back against his stomach, half its length now exposed, his balls still covered. At full mast, it stands slightly out from Ciel's body, pulling the last button taut, the two halves of his shirt, framing it, to either side. It makes a truly enchanting picture, and Sebastian sits back to admire it, expression not nearly fearful enough as he says, "Ahh, what a pretty picture you make, my...sweetheart." 

Blushing despite himself, Ciel looks away to the side. "Sh-shut up," he orders, stammering. "Come here and kiss me."

"My lord?" Sebastian's face is truly open, no cat-like conniving there, and Ciel likes it best that way. 

Soothed slightly by the break in character, he repeats himself without complaint, "Forget that last button and kiss me. On the lips." His lustful gaze is interrupted by his mouthing of the words, /Like you're afraid./ 

True to form, Sebastian gulps, not thinking too closely about what the action means to the Sebastian that calls Ciel 'lord'. He leans forward with both hands beside Ciel's head, and presses his lips to the boy's in a manner that could hardly be called a kiss. Ciel immediately moves beneath him, opening his lips and massaging at Sebastian's, tonguing the slit that will not open for him. Sebastian pulls away, looking wounded and /fearful/, as directed, one hand pressed against his wetted lips. 

"I want this," Ciel tells him bluntly. "I asked for it. Do you?" 

Sebastian allows himself to swallow hard again, then, after a moment's considered pause, sweeps his tongue around his lips, tasting Ciel's wetness. It /is/ sweet, just as he thought it'd be. He nods silently and repeats the action with more softness to his lips this time. 

Their lips' meeting is /divine/ and Sebastian's arms shake. He envelops Ciel's lips a few times, and retreats when Ciel's impatient tongue prods at him again. There is impatience in Ciel's eyes when he meets them again but the challenge makes them flash. 

"What are you afraid of, butler?" he challenges, the title sounding like a pet name in his mouth. It truly flusters him for a moment.

"I...I don't want to /hurt you/...my sweetheart." 

Ciel's eyes soften, though his tone does not. "You won't. Try just a little bit harder than you think you dare... Heh-heh. You'll /know/ if you hurt me," he replies, his tone shifting from confident to dark. Sebastian thinks about the way Ciel's summoning-scream cut across //dimensions// to call to him, and shivers.

"I'll just tell you," Ciel cuts in, surprising him. The boy raises both his eyebrows in an attempt to appear as forthright and uncomplicated as possible and it makes Sebastian smile for at least two reasons. 

"Okay. My sweetheart," he replies, because without the pause and the possessive, it would have sounded only mocking. 

Ciel nods magnanimously and Sebastian smiles wide again, thinking of something to add. "Guess I'll just have to trust you."

Ciel smiles in a way Sebastian has seen dozens of times, recognizing the irony, and holds his arms up for Sebastian to fall into. "That you will, my butler. That you will." When they kiss this time, they both are smiling.


	2. The Theme is Restraint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FOUND THE SECOND HALF, HALLELUJAH.

Sebastian allows Ciel's tongue when it presses into him, allows its intrusion like a prehensile cock into his throat. Of course, it doesn't reach that far. 

Ciel counts his teeth, and has to do it multiple times, getting distracted by the /feel/ too often, and he pushes aside Sebastian's tongue, bats it back and forth, and attempts to incite him to play. 

It's only when he is about to give up in favor of a full breath that Sebastian's tongue surges against his, going farther than he thinks he should dare, pressing into Ciel's mouth and immediately lapping at Ciel's tongue, head tilted for better access. 

Ciel makes the most /adorable/ noises as he protests the slight violence, the indignity of being kissed sideways with Sebastian's nose against his /cheek/. 

When the butler lets him go, Ciel's face is red, and his lips redder. He gasps and splutters and holds Sebastian's face in between his hands, searching the demon's eyes.

"That..." he finally says at last, eyes flicking back and forth between Sebastian's, their faces are that close. Sebastian raises one eyebrow at him very slowly, as though daring him to break character and halt Sebastian's momentum. The unspoken threat works and Ciel sighs, looking down and away and licks his lips contemplatively. 

"That was unexpected. You do manage to surprise me sometimes," he admits somewhat awkwardly, as though he were doing up his own shirt buttons and had failed at it.

Sebastian's smile is poisonous honey from the wrong sort of insect, from no harmless bee Ciel has ever known, as he replies, "If I couldn't do this much for my sweetheart, what kind of lover would I be?" 

The gentle teasing makes heat flare in Ciel's cheeks and his hands, still on Sebastian's face, push him away as he dips for another kiss. 

"Ngh. Not...not so bold," he mumbles, though Sebastian understands. His flinty eyes flick up, sharp despite their soft fan of wide, fawn-like lashes. "You're terrible at doing what I order you to, /slave/. Like you're afraid," he hisses again, incensed at being forced to repeat himself. "And don't make me remind you again!" he barks slightly more loudly. 

Sebastian dips his head. When he raises it, Ciel can see he has schooled away his smile. 

"Young mas..." he begins imploringly, but Ciel's eyes widen the way they do when he is seconds away from slapping Lizzy, "I mean...sweetheart," and the way the devil bites his own tongue makes Ciel's heart thump too fast for a beat, "Please let me...." 

Mollified, Ciel huffs. "Stop asking for permission, you clod-headed dolt. I've already given it," he adds much more quietly, eyes averted. They snap back to Sebastian's a second later and the absurdly-confident smirk is back. "Don't you want to ravish me... My oh-so-loyal butler?" Again, the word sounds like a naughty private nickname as it falls from Ciel's lips.

Sebastian's lips part ever-so-slowly, peeling away sensuously and Ciel's tongue wets his dry lips. "Yes," the man breathes, another piece of the puzzle clicking into place in his mind. 

Ciel wants to be touched, yes, but by a /human/. Another /person/, not a temporarily-embodied force of psuedo-phenomenal, semi-cosmic powers of mischief. But, this is the best he can do. For some unfathomable reason, he did not choose Elizabeth. But Sebastian thinks he knows why. 

"Yes I do, my lord. Ah! I have wanted to for so long!" His breathy exhale excites a brief stirring in the loins of the young earl and the boy wishes he could shift his body closer to Sebastian's, but the man insists on hovering so, and that is part of his afraid-to-touch play. Ciel tells himself that he simply must be patient, and he'll get his reward in the end.

Ciel tilts his head up and closes his eyes, lets his own lips part in invitation. "Then kiss me. Slowly. /Softly,/" he adds in a whisper, and if Sebastian wasn't sure Ciel was displaying weakness earlier, he is certain now, but it only engenders in him a powerful urge to smother and hide, protect and cherish, and while Ciel would never indulge the absconding fantasy, he is currently /demanding/ the cherishing one, and Sebastian is not one to let opportunities go to waste. 

So he slides his own hands up Ciel's shoulders, up his neck, and rubs them reverently against the back of his head and his jaw. Petted like a cat, Ciel calms, mouth and forehead relaxing and he breathes easily. 

Sebastian's eyes flash with hellfire as he dips his head, rubbing his bared fingertips into Ciel's jaw muscles, sending small gusts of breath across Ciel's mouth with his own, leaning closer and closer and breathing a touch faster with each breath, until the distance that separates them is but a hair's breadth in width - and he closes it.

It is the tiniest brush of lips, lighter than a touch to the hand that might gain one's attention, light enough that Ciel wonders if it's Sebastian's hair tickling his lips. 

Sebastian retreats, barely a millimeter, and repeats the brush, so very, very swiftly. He retreats and licks his lips, and he is close enough that Ciel feels the underside of Sebastian's tongue. 

An unholy moan falls from his opening mouth and Sebastian's lips pull upwards into a marveling smile, to which he reacts by quickly pressing kisses to Ciel's lips again. He drops them upon Ciel's skin like Father Christmas drops presents outside good children's doors, asking just as little in return. 

He starts humming as he kisses Ciel, barely-there grunts of assent and pleasure slowly morphing over time into exaggerated, feminine 'mwah!' sounds as he smacks his lips open on the retreat. 

Ciel can only stop himself from giggling by seizing Sebastian's head between his hands and pulling him down for a serious kiss that blossoms between them, connecting their mouths, their souls, in a way none of their previous fumblings had managed. 

Sebastian retreats first, stunned. He has never connected like that with such little effort, such a perfunctory gesture as kissing on the lips. He wonders if something even smaller, like touching their hands, would do the same, wonders if the resonance was physical at all. 

He looks down enough to locate Ciel's hands, then presses one open with his own, entwining their fingers and squeezing their palms together. Ciel pants at the contact, eyes going glassy, and Sebastian's eyebrows rise once again.

Helplessly intrigued, Sebastian lifts Ciel's hand to his lips and bestows chaste kisses upon its back as he would a highborn lady. 

Ciel shakes his head against the pillow and tugs Sebastian's hand towards his own mouth. "No, like this," he murmurs, and begins lapping at Sebastian's fingertips, tongue and lips and teeth conspiring to light the over-sensitive nerves on fire. And the plot succeeds. Sebastian's hand is shaking as Ciel holds it, and the youth knows it, too, as he glances up briefly with triumph in his eyes. 

Sebastian wants to lash out, to pull his hand away and return to familiar kissing, to /win this round/, but he realizes there is only one response Ciel wants from him, and that is to play his part in this farce. 

His only chance of winning in this game, Sebastian realizes quickly, is to play along, to play spectacularly, and winning means making Ciel come undone.

This boy will not go down easily, Sebastian ponders as Ciel nips at the neat ends his black nails and pulses his tongue against several fingerpads at once, stirring the smouldering embers in Sebastian's loins as he does so. He /wants/ to submit, to be caressed and coddled, but he also wants Sebastian to submit to his own supposed baser instincts, in a particular manner and fashion which he alone deigns to dictate. 

It will be a delicate and hazardous game, fraught with open, raw, unleashed emotions that could turn against Sebastian at any moment and make his master throw him from his rooms. Sebastian's utter, but believable, submission is his only chance of success.

So he allows the shudder that the boy's tongue /would/ have engendered in his limbs, had he been human, allows the muscles in his arms to cord in an 'effort' to keep his hand still. Ciel senses it and smiles with his mouth full. Restraint /is/ the name of the game, after all. 

/Sebastian's/ restraint. 

Ciel will be having none of /that/, thank you very much - he is there to be ravished like the perfect little prince he is, to be worshipped, body and soul, and as long as Sebastian plays that role well, Ciel's consent is not even part of the equation. It has been /given/. He /wants/ Sebastian to play this role, has grown tired of repeating his order to do so. He wants to be taken, to be worshipped, and will be quite enthusiastic in his submission, as well. 

Sebastian's lips part and he calculates how many more minutes Ciel would prefer he wait before putting his wetted fingers to their proper use.

Unwilling to take his hand from Ciel's attentive mouth, Sebastian instead moves to close the gap between their mouths, and removes Ciel's hand from his wrist. 

He puts Ciel's fingers against his lips, and guides Ciel's free hand to the side of Sebastian's face, putting his own free hand against Ciel's cheek and lovingly swiping at it with his thumb. He moans against Ciel's fingers as the boy hesitantly inserts a few and plays with Sebastian's lip.

They suck in concert on one another's fingers for a few quiet moments, free hands pushing restlessly through flattening hair, until Sebastian's prick, stirring slowly and relentlessly as it would were it a human's, begins to pain him enough to make him shift. 

He moans as he does so, taking his hand from Ciel's hair and pulling his lengthening member upwards, settling it and his body into the cradle of Ciel's hips, all the while suckling on Ciel's fingers. 

The younger gasps at the solid heat, eyebrows shooting up and Sebastian pulls his head back, apologies fluttering from his mouth like anxious birds until Ciel puts his dry hand against Sebastian's lips to silence him.

"I like it," is all he says, and Sebastian swallows as his cock pulses, nestling into its neighbor and a body's warmth. 

If he keeps up like this, he truly might lose control, but that is exactly what Ciel is asking of him. Surely the boy does not wish his soul to be taken in this precise instant! No, he only demanded sexual touch, not spiritual devouring. That line, again, will be a hard one to walk.

He breathes harder as Ciel's hands tug at him, pushing clothing off gracelessly, his own, and his butler's, in an effort to incite the man further. Sebastian resists the effort, resists the temptation to simply take it all, and the role reversal hits him like a belt buckle to the temple. 

He is truly afraid now, truly angry at himself for letting Ciel take them this far out of their safe orbit, truly uncertain whether a stable closer orbit could be found, or if they would simply collide destructively. Ciel would be obliterated, that much is clear, but if he was, Sebastian would be, too, for the whole persona that Ciel created with that name, would cease to have a reason to be. 

Allowing his fake human instincts free reign to clamor in his head, Sebastian listens and recognizes a conflict between a sense of self-preservation, and a sense of lust, and a sense of duty. If what he must do is what he wishes to do is what will destroy him, he must think carefully about how to avoid death, on either front. 

So he chooses, unsurprisingly, as Sebastian never lies, to be completely honest.

"Sweetheart," he pants against Ciel's hair, hips unable to control their shallow thrusting against Ciel's body. "I fear that... if we continue this -- ngh! Hah, hah!" 

Ciel's shifting at the change in Sebastian's weight upon him has settled him into an even more inflaming position and Sebastian struggles to hold onto his thoughts. "See? If we continue this, I fear I will...ngh....not...be able... to control...."

"Hmpf!" Ciel chuckles, a very brief sound of amusement. "That is rather the point, my butler." To which Sebastian smiles, as he had expected that, but he perseveres.

"No, I... I have utmost faith in our contract, my young master, but I have increasingly little faith in /myself/." He places his mouth very near Ciel's ear and he whispers, not wanting to completely stop the scene and ruin his master's enjoyment of it, "I have no wish to devour your soul so early, Young Master." 

He pulls back to watch Ciel's eyes as they furrow, and suddenly widen. Before he can launch into a flurry of questions, Sebastian preempts them, more loudly, at normal speaking volume, to indicate the interlude is over. 

"My... my /sweetheart/... If you would but indulge me... An orgasm would certainly clear the fog of lust from my mind. I would be able to more faithfully worship you, as you do so deserve, my... my sweetheart." 

The pause gives Ciel himself pause, certain the butler had been about to say 'my young lord' before he reverted to character.

"Do it," he orders after a moment of contemplation. "And let me watch." 

Sebastian's lips part, making him look simply lustful, simply...hungry. "Ahh, thank you, my kind and dear young - sweetheart." 

Unsettled by the man's inability to keep his pet-names straight, Ciel simply nods and lounges back against the pillows, crossing his arms and expecting a first-rate show.

*****

Sebastian peels his body off his master's, sitting up straight and wrapping one hand, as well as he could manage, around his clothed erection with a sigh. 

"Ahhh, Ciel," he moans, making Ciel's eyebrows jump. 

"I--I didn't say you could-"

"My /sweet/heart," he continues, eyes opening halfway and head tilting. The way his hair fans over his face makes Ciel swallow once before replying.

"Hmmpf. Get on with it, will you? Shouldn't take you that long."

"Mmm... No. No, it won't," he pants, hips pumping shallowly atop the cradle of Ciel's pelvis, pushing himself into the wall of flesh his fingers create for him. 

The fastest way to orgasm, that /this/ demon has found, at least, is to focus on the physical sensations, and allow the human form to solidify and take the reins itself, so to speak. 

Sebastian closes his eyes and listens to the sound of his own pants, his own false heart, the crumble of dead skin from the very top layer, the creaking of his hair as it grows. Each serendipitous catch of a fingernail against his clothed length shoots light through his veins, and he chases that, squeezing and manhandling himself more and more desperately until Ciel cuts in, "Enough!"

Stunned, Sebastian's eyes fly open and catch Ciel's hot gaze. "Put your hand down your pants," the boy orders with half a smirk. Sebastian lets a breath out through his nose. 

"Nnnn... Yes, my... my sweetheart." He drags one hand up his length tantalizingly, to test its firmness, and as he is just one second away from testing the wetness of the tip with his own bare index finger, Ciel cuts in again.

"Nngh. You can /say/ my name... if it gets you hotter." The boy is absolutely not looking at him as he says it.

"Mmmm," Sebastian agrees, slowly adding fingers beneath his waistband and wishing the thing were looser. "You must admit it is a very human thing to say, no? The name of one's partner?" He is panting as he says it, which Ciel grudgingly admits adds to the verisimilitude. 

He assents with a single vowel and is quick to add, "/Only./ Only for this play. Right now. Not, not anywhere else." His face still betrays discomfort and Sebastian puts fingertips at his jaw, caressing.

"As butler of the Phantomhive household, I would never act above my station in such a way..." He leaves it hanging, waiting for the boy to give him a direction to go in, and Ciel doesn't disappoint.

"...Ciel," Ciel finishes for him.

"Mm," Sebastian assents with a smile. "No, I would never disgrace the Phantomhive name with such impertinence...Ciel." The boy shivers at his name from the butler's lips, which he has never, ever heard addressed to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IT ENDS SO ABRUPTLY. T_T I would probably not post this at all, it's so unsatsifying, but the Great Quarantine of 2020 has me motivated to complete some death-cleaning tasks. I'm not in mortal peril, don't worry, I just have the time right now, so I'm taking it!
> 
> Written 23rd of april 2014, shortly after I discovered and gleefully devoured a subtitled full-length pirated copy of the second musical on Youtube. I'm sure it's not up anymore, sadly. // indicates italics, minimally-edited.
> 
> Update: I FOUND A FILE WITH A WHOLE BUNCH MORE FOR THIS FIC, HALLELUJAH. It's still unfinished in the middle of the action, but there's MORE now, and that's a plus!


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